Spartan Vector
by Freezter
Summary: Master Chief, John-117 and his team, Kelly, Linda, Fred and Will escort a battalion of Marines to defend the planet Haras. They are surprised, though, to encounter a new and lethal type of Spartans. The leader of this Spartan group, Vector, encounters foreign feelings, that he has trouble dealing with. Will the person who cares for him be able to bring him out of his shell?
1. Introduction

I was there…

Reach had fallen…

We failed to save it…

Reach…

All I knew perished…

My home…

My birthplace…

My family…

Friends…

Gone…

My team…reported MIA…

But I know the truth…

The title should be KIA…

But the UNSC wanted otherwise…

They said we should keep up the belief.

What belief? We aren't invincible. We aren't gods.

We are mortals...

Some say we're close to demigods.

That's an understatement.

Others say we aren't even human.

We're just robots or cyborgs under our second skin.

How I love anonymity.

No one knows who you are.

No one can ridicule you…

Or so I thought.

Secrets have costs.

The UNSC knows that.

But they remain resolute.

We are just puppets tied to strings.

They control us blindly.

They sit down and converse amongst themselves.

But they don't know.

I scoff in secret at their ignorance.

They don't know what goes on.

They think that life is small…

That they can just treat it lightly…

But…that cost me my team…

The only rational beings who understand me…

They know how I feel.

We work together…

We are almost like family…

I could almost laugh at the Command…

What is laughter?

What's a smile like?

A frown?

A grin?

What are tears?

What is sadness?

Sadness is something I think I feel.

But I can't be sure.

I am void of emotion.

I wasn't allowed to show any in training.

We were harshly punished if we did.

What is love?

I think I've heard of it…

But I don't remember…

I think my family showed it…

But do I have a family?

I was told they died.

The Covenant had wiped out the planet Haras…

It was glassed.

No survivors…

But I thought Reach was home?

I can't remember.

I was told that Reach was home.

Home as long as I lived.

In training they nailed it down.

"Reach is your home.

You have no family.

No friends.

Just teamwork…

Each other…

Work as a team…"

I was very young when they sent me out.

My team too…

We went to stall a Covenant's attack on Piras.

But was I ready?

I was told I was.

I was told I was ready whether I really was or not.

They didn't even let me finish the allotted training.

Most of my kind went until 18.

I was 16…

I was told that I started training when I was first born…

What does that mean?

Did I run through an obstacle course before I could walk?

Did I shoot with an MA5B Assault Rifle before I could talk?

Did it matter?

The UNSC didn't care.

They said we're the lifeline for humankind.

The only way to save earth…

I'm an AA Spartan…

Number 116…

Call sign Vector…

My mission?

To exterminate the Covenant and anything else threatening mankind.

Who am I?

My name is Reyes…

And I'm your worst nightmare.


	2. Chapter 1: Dumb Luck

The radio rang clear in his headset; the words reverberating throughout his head.

"Alpha, this is a hot LZ. Get your team ready and be prepared to jump."

He didn't respond. The sound of the Pelican's roaring engines, plasma streaking past the hull, Marines yelling, fire and explosions….

"Sergeant! Do you read me?"

His head snapped up, "Yes," he almost croaked. "Loud and clear."

The voice continued, "Team Alpha needs to be ready in T minus three minutes. We are experiencing heavy Covenant fire. Be ready jump on my mark."

"Wilco, out." He wearily replied. His eyes grazed from left to right inside the Pelican. His Marines looked pumped, but uncertainty and fear was evident in their headstrong eyes. They will make it he thought. They will….

"Hey Sarge," a voice interrupted his train of thought. "You ok?"

He looked to his right, where his Second in Command, Corporal Harris, was looking intently at him. Though very young, he could sense courage and the willingness to fight in the Corporal's eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied. Avoiding direct eye contact with his Second, he looked down at his assault rifle. Though he knew it wouldn't work, the Corporal had a knack of reading people's thoughts.

"You sure?" The Corporal asked, skeptical this time.

His eyes looked up and a sigh escaped his lips. "The hell with it Corporal, of course I'm not fine! Does it look like I'm fine to you?"

The young soldier shrugged his shoulders, "Just wanted to hear from your own lips Sarge. It helps to spill the truth in the heat of battle sometimes."

"Sometimes Harris, sometimes." He put the emphasis on that word.

Harris just smiled, which, strange enough, caused himself to smile. He couldn't help it. The Corporal's smile was contagious. And well, in this moment of uncertainty, it helped to boost morale.

"Hey Sarge," Private Casey called. "What's the joke?" Of course he had to see that, he thought. A bigger smile crossed his face.

"Nothing you need to know Private, just know that it's something you can relate to." His Second in Command smiled at him at this.

A big "Oohh" came up from the Marines. Everybody burst in laughter.

"Does it have to do with all those women he left behind Sarge? You know how he is on that." Another Private butted in, not helping himself.

"Maybe," he said almost too quietly.

Private Casey looked suspicious at him. "So, what may I ask, were our two leaders talking about? We Marines would like to know." The other Marines chuckled at this, nodding in agreement.

Corporal Harris beat him to the chase. "We were just talking about what would happen on the battle field if Private there were to spy a female Elite."

Private Casey's eyes shot up. "Really? Well hell, I'd probably give her my phone number and address!"

The Marines erupted in laughter.

"But private," the Corporal answered rather calmly, "You don't have a phone, and your home is Earth. I don't think our fellow Earthlings would like it very much to see that you brought a female alien to your house."

Everybody roared at this. Private Casey remained dumbstruck. "Does anybody on Earth have to know?" He shot back in defense.

Sarge just sat there, almost forgetting about the joke that was being passed around.

"Not if you don't want them to know," he answered calmly. "It's up to you really….."

"Alright Alpha," the pilot interrupted their ranting. "You have T minus thirty seconds. Get ready!"

The Marines immediately shot up, rifles at the ready. Simultaneously, all seatbelts clicked open. The back hatch opened as well, revealing the speeding ground under them.

"Alright Marines!" The Sergeant yelled out at his men. "I'm proud to know all of you, and I want you to prove yourselves to me now! Show me what Marines really are made of!"

The Corporal added in, almost in sync, "Can I get a Hoo-Rah!"

"Hoo-Rah!" All the Marines shouted out in time. This is better than training the Sergeant thought to himself.

Instantly, he felt the Pelican slow down, and waited for the voice to come up.

"Alright Alpha! In T minus five…four….three….two…one…. Now! Go! Go!"

One by one the Marines jumped out of the transport. Hitting the ground with their feet, they curled up and rolled, absorbing the shock of the impact. Eventually all of Alpha was on the ground. They watched as the Pelican applied full power and climbed away.

As if on cue, everybody assembled with partners of two, falling into a line.

"Alright men! We're going to move forward. Each pack will stay at least ten feet apart; I want you all to spread out! You see a Grunt bastard, you shoot him down! You see a Jackal, you take him down! You see an Elite, get another pack to help you and cover that lizard freak with gunfire! You see a Hunter, warn everyone else, and stay away; I don't want anyone loosing whole segments of their body just because you were foolish enough to go head on to one of those things. Those walking behemoths are always in pairs of two. Always! Any questions?"

His Marines stayed silent. He was just about to give the order when Private Colt raised his hand.

"Yes Private?"

"Um, what do we do exactly if we see those Hunters?"

The Sergeant thought for a moment. None of these men had ever seen a Hunter. They only knew about them from pictures and information from Marines with close encounters. And most of those close encounters either cost a whole body segment, or a life. He couldn't give any more information about these walking dinosaur-like aliens. He'd never seen one before either. He saw questioning eyes looking on him.

"Just stay the hell away from those things. You have a probability of one in a hundred of the chance to lame even one of them. So just stay clear." The Sergeant answered with a final word. With that, he swiped his arm forward and the Marines headed out.

His mind was full of dread. They were told by Intel that they had 65% chance that they wouldn't run into the Lekgolo. What about the other 35%? That was still there. So there was still a possibility that they would see them. He spat on the ground. Those damn Lekgolo. Why did they always go in pairs? At least, that's what Intel said. He severely hoped they were wrong, but he knew, deep down inside, to expect the worst. Although the UNSC was beginning to advance their research of the Covenant, there was still so much to learn about.

A Private broke his thinking. "I wonder Sarge. Will there be any Spartans in this mission?"

Silence ensued. "I damn hope there will be," Private Landin answered. "We all know that they are the best hope we have to winning this war. So I damn hope they appear in this mission. It will make it a lot of a hell easier for us."

All the Marines murmured in agreement. Even Sarge had to agree with this. At least there was that hope. Having a Spartan on your same mission was like a Godsend.

"I agree with Landin," he finally answered. "I sincerely hope there will be. Even one is enough help to equal a hundred Marines."

Thirty minutes passed on in silence. Leaves and sticks snapped under the combat boots of the Marines. They kept their ten feet radius from each pack, scanning the flanking forest on either side. They hadn't gone but perhaps another mile when gunfire was heard to the far left, about thirty yards or so. Yells were clearly heard, and the sound of plasma bolts hitting the trees was the first thing audible.

The rest of Alpha team jumped to action, sprinting toward the commotion. There they spotted two Marines, having a shootout with a couple Grunts, and a few Jackals. Each Marine found shelter behind a tree or rock and joined into the fray. The sound of assault rifles resounded throughout the forest, joined with Needlers and Plasma Pistols. Sarge picked aimed his rifle at the chest of a Grunt and let a three-round spray loose. The Grunt jerked with the impact and fell back, letting out a guttural scream. Another Grunt fell, riddled with bullets to the upper chest.

Unexpectedly, a Grunt charged. Figures, thought the Sergeant, they usually did that. But just as quickly, a few rounds punctured its Methane mask, letting out a green gas. The Grunt quickly stopped and panicked as it clumsily tried to reassemble its lifeline. The Corporal quickly put a bullet to the head, permanently silencing the creature. One after the other, the Grunts charge, but they quickly dropped like chickens in a firing range. It would have been something funny to laugh about, but there was a more pressing matter to deal with for the Marines. Those few Jackals had energy shields. Rounds after rounds bounced harmlessly off the round glowing plates. Sarge had to urge to yell at his Marines to stop the lead dropping, but his Marines weren't stupid. As if on cue, the rounds stopped, and only occasional ones were fired in attempt to aim over the flaws in the shield. But to no avail. The Corporal cursed under his breath.

"We can't waste our ammo on those damn shields Sarge, yet we can't just stop shooting either. They keep advancing on us every few feet or so." He looked toward the Alpha Commander, gritting his teeth.

Sarge was just about to open his mouth when familiar, yet unexpected gunfire was heard. Two Jackals went down in just matters of a couple seconds. The Sergeant made the mistake of moving out from cover to see what had just happened. A Plasma bolt hit him on the side of his right shoulder, searing the armor and coming into contact with his skin.

The Corporal watched as his Commander dropped to the ground, clutching his right arm and groaning. "Sarge is down!" He yelled over the com. "Need medical attention pronto!" He bolted for the tree, then dove for Sarge, having a green bolt miss him by a foot or so. Landing beside the Sergeant, he dropped his rifle and skimmed along the ground toward the shoulder.

Forgetting all protocol, he addressed the Sergeant, "Hey Hansen, you gonna live?"

"I'm fine," Hansen seethed between his teeth, just a stroke of dumb luck that's all. He grimaced at the pain.

Harris grinned at the irony. "Well, it could have been worse right?" Kneeling on his knees, he removed the adjacent armor. The damage was wasn't as bad as he predicted.

"Well," Harris began, "It could have been worse. At least you knew happened to be at a slant when it hit you, otherwise, your shoulder bone would've been seared."

Hansen almost laughed. "Well, like I said, 'it was a stroke of dumb luck.'"

Just then, more non-too foreign gunfire was heard. Another Jackal had fallen. A Marine came running up, his face almost white. But right behind him, another Marine caught up, his face portraying something close to pure joy.

Two news reached Hansen's ears. Elites had joined the gunfight. Joy of all joys he thought. The latter news however, heightened his senses.

Spartans had landed.

Hey guys, so this is officially the "First" Chapter. I'm sorry it took so long to type this up, but you how it is. Work gets in the way and so forth. Anyway, any reviews would be appreciated!

This story may seem a little twisted, I'm still working on it!


	3. Chapter 2: Death Drop

Hello fellow readers. Firstly, let me add some bit of info that I forgot to mention on Chapter 1. No, I mean my legit Chapter 1: _Dumb Luck_, not what fanfic decided was Chapter 1.

Anyways, I omitted the year and some information that was crucial to the time and setting so here it is:

2526

One year into the Human-Covenant War (The Great War).

Location: Planet Haras – Heron Region

Time: 1200 Zulu

This is my first Halo fanfic. And I could also say it's almost my very first fanfic as well. Your reviews and comments mean a lot to me to keep me going.

Now, without further ado, I present you the next Chapter.

Chapter 2: Death Drop

2526

Early stages of The Great War

Location: UNSC Usurper. In orbit around Planet Haras – Heron Region

Time: 0900 Zulu

Captain Keyes stood on the platform of the UNSC Usurper, abnormally admiring the planet's appearance. His posture was calm and collected, appearing to be deep in thought. He scanned the planet's surface with his concentrated green eyes. Pursing his lips, the Captain let out a sigh.

"There won't be anything to look after today." The words left his lips quietly, but were audible to anyone within ten feet. "The Covenant will scour your surface, exterminating anything human. This battle just might as well be useless."

"Cheer up sir, there's always a chance you know." Lieutenant Gregor chirped.

Keyes raised his eyebrow and looked at his Navigations Officer.

"You really think we have a chance?"

"Of course sir," Gregor replied almost cheerfully. "After all, what good are the Spartans if there's no hope?"

Jacob Keyes looked back out the tinted deck window. _If only_ he thought. _If only._ The Spartans, augmented super soldiers; trained to kill and destroy the Covenant bastards. _He does have a point_ he thought. _The Spartans are our only hope._ But he knew, as well as some high ranked officers, that Spartans weren't immune to death. They were humans after all. Scratch the rumor that they were cyborgs, or half alien half human mutations. They could die. He heard about Sam-034; how Blue Team ran into Hunters on a ship; their first encounter with the dreaded Lekgolo.

Just then, the automatic door to the deck hissed open. Lieutenant Gregor looked over his shoulder at the newcomer. He nodded in a friendly gesture when it was none other than Dr. Halsey. Her hair, a raven black with silver streaks forming, just barely touched her shoulders. She walked over and stopped next to Jacob, hardly making a sound. After about a minute or so, she finally spoke up.

"Beautiful isn't it Captain?" Her voice strong, yet soft, was quietly directed to the Captain. It reminded Keyes of someone, who he couldn't remember at the moment.

Captain Keyes stood there for a moment, then glanced in her direction as if just realizing her presence. Looking back, he responded rather solemnly, "Doesn't matter now, it won't be there by the end of today." Halsey just looked at him, almost suppressing a smile.

"Don't you ever look on the bright side Jacob?" She used his first name rather straightforward. Dismissing protocol, but she knew he didn't care.

"If there's valid hope, yes I do. But what hope is there? Can you be sure that your Spartans can handle this mission? And what if something goes askew? Can you be sure that we can retrieve the rest of our men without having more casualties?" Jacob sighed once more, momentarily looking down at his feet.

"I can't guarantee that the mission will go as planned Captain Keyes. But I can guarantee one thing. We will be able to retrieve your men, with as few casualties as possible." Dr. Halsey concluded by sipping at a cup of coffee she had in her left hand.

Captain Jacob Keys quickly looked at her, momentarily transfixed by her soft blue-grey eyes. He resisted the urge to touch swipe a finger through her hair, remembering that other personnel were present. Finally realizing why he looked at her, Keyes almost too quickly let out the one question that hit his mind. "How do you know that if this mission doesn't go well, that the retrieval will be successful?"

She gently lowered her mug, and looked out toward the planet. "That's exactly why I am here Captain Keyes." She centered her direction onto Keyes' face. "Do you know about Team Ranger?"

2526

Location: UNSC Usurper. In orbit around Planet Haras – Heron Region

Time: 1200 Zulu

Master Chief Petty Officer, John-117, looked at the portable file in his gloved hand. His blue eyes scanned the screen, absorbing the information. He couldn't believe it. Blue Team was supposed to escort the Marines on the planet Haras, not arrive just in time to see their bodies lying around, plasma wounds exposed to the air. Someone had messed up. They were told that a pelican would be in the hangar and that a pilot would take them to the planet's surface. The former was true, but the latter had gotten drunk. Now they had burned over half an hour. In frustration, John turned off the screen and none too gently put it down on an adjacent table.

Kelly, who was leaning on a wall about two meters away looked up, and cracked a grin. "What's wrong? Tabby there pushed your buttons?" She grinned at her cynicism.

Chief just looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "No," he replied. "I pushed its buttons." Fred gave a smirk.

"Not exactly what she means Chief," he said rather smoothly.

Chief didn't respond. He walked over to a cabinet and opened the metal door. M6C Magnum pistols were revealed, taking the top two rows, of fifteen each. The bottom two rows consisted of the BR55 Battle Rifle. The Master Chief gave one look at the rifles and decided against it. He instead picked up a Magnum and examined it. Seeming to be satisfied, he clipped it to his magnetic belt and closed the doors.

"Biased against Battle Rifles Chief?" William spoke up, after witnessing what happened.

"No," was the simple one word, monotone response. He walked over to another cabinet and opened those doors. Seeing that it was filled with more pistols and Battle Rifles, he almost slammed the doors. Walking over to yet another cabinet, he slowly opened it up, revealing rows of M90 Shotguns. He lingered about one second, and then slammed the doors. Meanwhile, Kelly, Fred and Will were enjoying this scene, not resisting the urge to let loose a remark.

"What you looking for Chief?" Will asked. Not really expecting a reply.

"My gun," was the reply that actually game out of that reflective visor.

"I didn't know it actually had your name on it, much less your number," Kelly smirked, giving Chief a cynical look. He ignored her and kept looking. He skipped the next cabinet, hoping that he would miss out on yet another disappointment.

"Hmm, what was wrong with that one?" Will asked again. No response. John opened the fourth cabinet to reveal a row of SRS99C-S2 AM Sniper Rifles. Fred let out a slow whistle.

"Jackpot," he grinned. Linda looked up from her ordeal with her sniper. She cocked an eyebrow at John as he lingered, looking at the rows of long barrels. As if making up his mind, he finally closed the doors, softly this time.

"Hmm...Chief is picky about this isn't he Kelly?" Fred mocked as he grinned.

"Mhm…" she mumbled while cleaning her M6D pistol. "By the way John, why did you choose a C over a D?" The Master Chief just looked at her, as if contemplating his answer. Just then a voice came over the loud speaker.

"Will Master Chief and Blue Team get their gear and meet at Pelican 4 in the docking bay pronto. We will be dropping you off on the planet in T-minus seven minutes.

All at once, as if a button were pressed, Blue Team sprang into action. John flung the third cabinet doors open to finally reveal his gun. He picked up an MA5B Assault Rifle, checked the clip, slammed the doors, and quickly swiped a couple more clips from an adjacent table. Linda stood up from leaning position and swung her sniper over her shoulders, hearing a magnetic _click _as her gun was attached. Picking up some spare ammo clips for her pistol, she headed for the exit. Will, Fred, and Kelly were already leaving when John and Linda caught up.

"Maybe this will be a lesson about being picky on what you choose," Fred remarked as Chief passed the trio and led them to the docking bay. In less than thirty seconds, from the time it took Chief to open the third cabinet doors, Blue Team passed through the entrance to the docking bay and headed for their designated pelican.

The pilot and his co-pilot both saluted Master Chief with a sharp "Sir!" Chief quickly returned the salute and headed for back of the metal bird. The pilot walked behind Chief and started to speak. "Sir, we will be leaving in about two minutes. Captain Keyes ordered that a team of ODST's be launched off first." John just nodded his head and jumped into the Pelican. Fred followed in suite. Kelly came in, then Will. Last but not least, Linda hopped in. Chief realized that his Spartans weren't the only ones on this bird flight. A few Marines sat in their seats, staring in awe at the five armor-clad behemoths. John ignored their gawking and walked straight toward the back of the pilot's seat, looking through the window.

"I wasn't told that Marines were accompanying us." The Master Chief stated to the pilot in monotone format.

"Sorry sir," the pilot answered back. "Not my orders. The Captain wanted some Marines knowledgeable in the medical field; in case we drop down to find that we have some injured personnel to deal with." John nodded in agreement. Captain Keyes was a smart officer; always thought ahead of the game. It would mean more Marines to handle, but the pros outweighed the cons in this scenario.

The back hatch closed, flooding the interior into temporary darkness as the co-pilot switched a stick. Soft white lights appeared on the ceiling. After checking to make sure that the Marines were fastened in their seats, he opened a private com channel with his team.

"Everyone set?" John asked, looking from one Spartan to the other.

"Roger that Chief," Fred answered for them.

"So, I'm guessing there's a reason why we have Marines coming with us on this drop?" Kelly asked, glancing at the four soldiers talking amongst themselves. Every once in a while, they would stare at the Spartans, only to quickly look away when Kelly or one of her fellow Spartans returned the stare.

"Captain Keyes' orders," Chief answered. "He wants to be prepared in case we need some meds on the field. Kelly nodded in acknowledgement.

After a short debrief from the pilot, the engines came to life. The Pelican gave a small jerk, and then lifted off the dock. The airlock doors hissed open as the Pelican flew in between them. After the doors closed behind the bird, the outside doors leading into space finally opened. With a push of the throttle from the pilot, the Pelican lurched forward.

The Marines made small chat as the Spartans stood or leaned against the wall of the Pelican. The Master Chief looked out between the pilot and co-pilot, watching as the Planet Haras grew bigger and bigger.

"We are entering the planet's atmosphere. We will officially be on Haras in T-minus two minutes and counting!" Corporal Ceriss, the co-pilot, said over the speakers.

The Marines looked up and began settling their supplies. Each had a Battle Rifle on their lap, with an advanced medic kit slung over the neck and under the left shoulder. The Spartans remained calm, despite the increasing weight in the air. Agitation and nervousness could be seen on the Marines as the Pelican began to shake.

"Stay strong Marines. This mission will go as planned. No need to worry." Fred calmly announced over the com channel. He could see the uneasiness in the soldiers' eyes. Though a steadfast Spartan himself, he felt compassion for the Marines. They were about to go into hostile territory, and they needed all the encouragement they could get. Like magic, courage seemed to sprout in the Marines. John noticed it too, and gave a slight nod toward Fred. _It's amazing what a Marine will do when spoken to by a Spartan_ he thought. At the same time, the com channel came to life.

"Chief, this is Captain Keyes. Do you copy over?"

"This is the Master Chief, I copy over."

"Here's an objective for you. Make sure those medics land safely on the ground. Do whatever you have to do, but I want those Marines alive. God knows what situation the men down there are in, over."

"Roger sir, Chief out." Chief looked up at his Spartans. He didn't have to say anything, they heard. They all nodded in acknowledgement.

"We have broken the planet's atmosphere sir. Prepare to bail when we reach our LZ." The pilot chirped through the speakers.

"Roger that," Chief replied.

"Phantom inbound, 4 o'clock!" The co-pilot yelled into the mic.

"I'll handle it," Will replied, quickly standing up and swinging the _Jackhammer_ over his shoulder. On cue, the back hatch opened. The Marines watched earnestly as the Spartan made his way to the back of the Pelican. He scanned the sky for a few seconds, getting his bearing. Dropping to one knee, he pointed the M19 SSM toward the horizon.

Just then, a Covenant Phantom flew from the 5 o'clock position, aligning itself perfectly in Will's aim. In rapid succession, he fired the first rocket. Half a second later, the second one was inbound, quickly trailing its predecessor. The first one slammed directly into the bow of the Covenant ship. The shields sparked and gave way, only to be hit again by a second rocket. Flames engulfed the Phantom as it veered down, out of control. A huge fireball erupted around the trees where ship landed.

The Marines gave a loud cheer. Relief showed on their faces as they clapped each other's' hands. The Pelican jerked suddenly, without warning. Will was thrown forward, out the back. Kelly yelled out, dashing toward where Will was kneeling not a second ago.

Will had just watched the Phantom burn to chars when his Pelican lurched. He felt himself thrown, head first, out the back of the transport. In time that would have been impossible for an average human, he twisted himself and grasped the edge of the hatch door just as it was passing. He had heard Kelly let out a yell, and the Marines gasping in confusion. Will jerked his right half and managed to grab the edge with his right hand, holding on desperately. The jerking Pelican didn't help the situation. In his peripheral, he noticed a dark purple object flying towards them.

"Damn it," he muttered. "Another Phantom approaching starboard side!" He yelled into the com.

The Pelican was wracked again with a blow, and his hands were ripped from the edge. Kelly reached out just in time to grab his right forearm and literally yank him into the transport. They collided and fell to the floor. If not for the situation, the Marines would have cheered.

"Pilot's dead, and the co-pilot is critically injured," John said out loud to the occupants. "Plasma hit the windshield and shattered it, incinerating the former."

Another blow, and the co-pilot screamed before his vitals showed flat. John quickly glanced into the cockpit, meeting a gruesome scene. Fried blood was splattered on the controls, sparks were shooting out of the console, and fresh blood could be smelled oozing out of the two corpses.

"We need to jump, now!" Fred shouted, seeing the Phantom about to let loose yet another wave of plasma. Kelly looked over the edge, then back at Fred.

"It's a five hundred meter drop!" She looked down again. "Make that three seventy-five!"

The Pelican was descending way too fast. In a quick conclusion, John grabbed the nearest Marine and told him to hold to his back. Catching on, the other Spartans did the same, except Linda, who was trying to get a clear shot at the Phantom.

"It's no use Linda! We need to jump before we become BBQ chicken!" Will shouted, as he hauled a medic on his back. Nodding in acknowledgement, she stepped over to the edge. Surveying the descent, she finally spoke for the first time since she got onto the Pelican.

"We are dropping at twenty meters a second, in about ten seconds….well; let's just say we won't experience it!" She shouted over the com, taking a glance at John.

"We jump, now!" The Chief shouted as he leaped off the Pelican. The Marine on his back stifled a scream. The rest of the Spartans followed in tow, not being so lucky, their cargo screaming. Linda jumped last; making sure no one was left but the two fried corpses in the cockpit.

The Spartans fell to the ground for about a few seconds, and then braced their legs as the ground hit them with enough force to crack a Marine's bones. Linda skidded to a stop as she hit the ground last, bending at the knee and rolling to absorb the impact. The other Spartans had to deal with landing a different way, absorbing all the impact in their feet, legs and hips.

John grunted slightly as the impact jarred his legs. It wasn't too bad of a fall, but the Marine clutching desperately to him didn't make the landing any easier.

The Marine slid off and met up with his fellow partners. They began chatting and panting how that could have been their "Death Drop". The Spartans stepped next to each other, observing the scene. The Pelican landed with a loud crash, metal flying everywhere, trailed by flames.

"So…what do we do now?" Will asked, turning away from the bonfire scene. A yell from a Marine answered that instantly.

"Grunts!"

Hey fellow fanfic readers! Sorry if this chapter took a while. I as caught up in work and a couple things. Any reviews and comments would be great! I will take into account any suggestions! OC's or anything else you might suggest! Thanks for reading and PLEASE review!

Chief out.


End file.
